The 81st Hunger Games
by Tabsthecat
Summary: The lover act worked for Katniss and Peeta, and the Hunger Games continued. This story follows the games from the point of view of district 3's Volta Nudorn, who forms a plan to destroy the careers and give the poorer districts a chance of winning. She's been a social out-cast all of her life, but will that help her in the games, or will she need to make allies?
1. Chapter 1

_In a future America, the country called Panem is divided into 12 districts and one capitol. In a small house in district 3, a man is lying on the bed. His face is as pale as the ghost that he will inevitably become very soon. A wife, soon to be widow, holds his hand and tells him it will be OK, though even she can't hide the shaking and catching in her voice. A young girl of three walks into the room, and runs to her father._

_"Daddy, what's wrong?" she asks._

_"I'm not very well sweetheart," he breathes, trying to force a faint smile "promise me you'll look after mummy when I'm gone."_

_"But where are you going?"_

_"Somewhere peaceful."_

_"Daddy, I don't want you to go. Stay here with me and mummy." The girl begins to cry, tears rolling down her soft, chubby cheeks._

_"I don't want to go either honey, but I have no choice." the man says, his eyes drooping._

_"But daddy…" the girl cries, as her mother shuts her into the next room "Daddy!" she screams, trying to open the door. She claws at it, not understanding what is going on. Scarlet blood appears at her finger-nails; her voice becomes hoarse with screaming._

I wake up, covered in sweat and panting. I shove the sheets into my mouth to mute the unstoppable screaming coming from it. After 5 minutes of the screams, I calm down and look at the time. 6:57 am. Usually I'd go back to sleep, but as I snuggle down I remember the date and a weight drops in my stomach. Reaping day. Let the 81st Hunger Games begin!


	2. Chapter 2 - Reaping

I crawl out of bed and into the shower to wash my hair, even though I don't see the point. How disgusting the capitol are, making us look our best before we are slaughtered on life television. Oh well, this is my last year, so I just have to not get reaped and then I'm done with the Hunger Games.

"Hurry up, Volta." Whines Welda from the other side of the door. My annoying step-sister is a constant reminder of how quickly my mother married Jack after my father's death. Part of me thinks that they were already too close before my dad bit the dust.

"What did you say?" I shout back to Welda, taking my time to annoy her. Pretty little 15 year old Welda, with her blond curls and ocean blue eyes. No wonder she wants to look her best for today, not for the capitol but for the hundreds of boys that might see her if she gets reaped.

"I said hurry up! Otherwise my hair won't be dry in time!" she screeches. I ignore her until I hear my mother's voice at the door "Hurry up Volta; some of us care about our appearance." And there we have it. The first snide comment of the day reminding me of how ugly I am. It's not just my tangled black hair and dull grey eyes, my over-sized nose or pale, thin lips. My structure isn't feminine at all. I'm not fat, just very tall compared to most other people in district 3, and so my figure is more a thick line than a perfect hourglass like Welda's. With everyone pressuring me to be more ladylike it's no wonder I always wear a scowl. Unless I'm around Codend. He's the only one who understands me, and me him. We're both the people who sit alone at lunch and will never go to prom. He's two years older than me though, so at least he doesn't have to worry about the games.

I step out of the shower, open the door and am nearly knocked over by my mother and Welda.

"I left something for you on the bed." Mother calls, tending to Welda's hair. I trudge into my room and look at my bed. No way. I am not wearing that! It's a bright yellow dress, made f a revolting material that makes my hair go static. I shake my head, and go to my wardrobe. Usually I just wear baggy jeans and a top, but I decide to make an effort and wear my best black jeans and a navy blue, silk top. They don't make my figure look any better, but I like them and their comfortable.

I go down to breakfast, where Jack (my step-dad) is at the table already. My mother and Welda have his surname "Reburn", but I kept my father's "Nudorn" out of respect.

"Ready for you're last reaping?" he asks

"I don't see how it's different to any of the other ones. The odds are less in my favor because my names in there eight times."

"I just hope Welda doesn't get reaped. Or you." He says, trying to hide his mistake but I already know he doesn't care about me. He can't wait until I leave home, then he can have a perfect family.

I try to ignore Jack as I eat my breakfast. I'm stacking my bowl away when Welda and my mother come flying down the staircase. I can't help my jaw from dropping. Welda is wearing a short, hot-pink dress made of silk. It's flirtyness suits her personality perfectly. I can't help being jealous, why does she get a brand new expensive dress whilst I get one probably from a second-hand shop?

"Come on Welda, no time for breakfast if we're to get your make-up done!" my mother chimes, pulling Welda along. She shakes her head at my outfit choice, but luckily has no time to argue. I'm all ready and so I leave to find Codend. He's in our usual meeting spot, under the big oak near the fence that marks the edge of our district. He stands up to give me a friendly hug as I arrive.

"Hey. It's your last reaping today isn't it?" he says, smiling sadly.

"Yeah, I just can't wait for it all to be over. I know I probably won't get picked, but I'm still nervous." I admit, sitting down.

"Come on, they won't pick you! The capitol only wants beautiful tributes." He jokes, though his comment still hurts a little bit.

"Is that why you were never chosen then?" I smirk. Everything is so easy with Codend around. Just as I'm relaxed, the reaping bell goes, and I'm forced to say goodbye.

"See you later." I call to Codend. He nods in agreement.

I make my way over to the town centre when Jack meets up with me.

"Hey." I murmer

"Sweatheart, you know I love you and your sister equally?" he says

"Step-sister." I correct.

"Yes, well, you know that Welda would have no chance if she was reaped. So I was wondering if you could think about volunteering for her?" he asks. I am horrified. I know that my family prefer Welda to me, but they want me to sacrifice myself for her. No way!

"I'll think about it." I lie, walking off to get my finger pricked. Did my mother know about that? Did she ask Jack to ask me? I'm so angry that I nearly walk into the boys section for 18 year olds, but someone pushes me the right way. I'm practically fuming when Diamondus Plumefeather walks onto the stage. Her wig is bigger than usual, dyed silver with blue sparks flying off it to represent or district. Her dress is worse than the yellow one my mother set out for me, its bright orange and circular, making her look like a pumpkin on Halloween.

"Welcome, welcome," she begins, and gives the usual talk about how lucky we are to live with capitol after the dark days. Finally, she walks over to the boys bowl. She makes an effort to build up the suspense before pulling out a name.

"Alex Mirtishu!" she shouts triumphantly. A smug 15 year old steps out of his section. I think he dated Welda for some time, but then again she's gone out with most boys her age. He's quite a looker, and Diamondus looks happy at having a good tribute this year. Then she walks other to the girls bowl, almost tripping on her high heels. She pulls out a name.

_"Welda Reburn!" she calls. Welda walks up to the stage, looking sweet and hiding her fear. My family hate me for not volunteering, but it's worth it. I move out the next day. In the games, Welda runs toward the cornucopia and a flying knife slits her throat. Alex runs over and holds her, before an axe lodges itself in his head. I feel happy that everyone sees that her looks were her only good points. But then it hits me that she's dead and it's all my fault._

That's what I'm imagining would happen if Welda was chosen and I didn't volunteer. Would I be able to cope with my whole district hating me, blaming me for both our tributes deaths? I wish that Wedla's name isn't reaped. I don't know what I'd do if she was.

I'm thinking so hard that I miss Diamondus calling out a name. She repeats it and I listen. The first thing I realize is that it isn't Welda. I relax and look around, puzzled as to why no-one is moving forward. Then I repeat the name in my head. Volta Nudorn. That's me.


	3. Chapter 3 - Saying Goodbye

I can't stop my legs from walking me up to the stage. Then I realise that I'm on camera, so I do my best to look smug and determined. Diamondus asks for volunteers, but of course there are none. I glare at Welda, who actually looks sort of sad, but if I get far enough into the games that they interview her, they will probably show this so she can't be smiling.

Alex and I are marched into the Justice Building, where we have a little time with our loved ones.

My mother comes in first, and she actually cries.

"Baby, I want you to know that I love you and Welda equally, even if it doesn't seem like it. I know that you are annoyed at me for marrying Jack so soon after your father's death, but I needed the support and if I mourned anymore I was worried you would get depressed." She breaks down into huge sobs. I believe her. I suddenly believe her, because I don't want to be angry at what could be our last meeting.

"It's ok mum, I believe you." I whisper, trying not to cry. I hug her until she is lead out and Codend comes in. I don't know what to say, but I don't have to worry because as soon as they shut the door Codend brings our lips together. Every emotion flows through me; passion, surprise, love, nervousness, happiness. I know that this is being filmed, but I don't want to stop. I close my eyes and feel his soft, full lips moving with mine. Finally he breaks away and I'm dazed and disorientated.

"I had to know," he breathes, "don't make any allies or join the careers. Just focus on winning and give the gamemakers a good show, that way they won't bother you." A peacekeeper marches in and takes Codend away. "I love you!" he cries out, and they door slams shut behind him.

Codend Wirve loves me and I think I love him back. And now I will never be able to tell him unless I brutally murder children. How sick the capitol is.


	4. Chapter 4 - Train

Alex and I are led out of the Justice Building and onto a sleek, silver train. As I walk inside, my jaw drops. The carriages are huge, each as big as a whole floor of my house. The walls are covered in regal patterns, some of which are made of silk or velvet and thick carpet covers the floor. We're told that we have a carriage each, mine to the right, Alex's to the left. We're told to freshen up before diner. I go to my room and my shock doesn't subside. There is a double bed (though I'm sure it should be called a triple bed), a wardrobe filled with expensive clothes and an ensuit bathroom. It's weird to think that in the capitol people can afford this luxury without a second thought, yet in the districts we must carefully consider every cent we spend. I pull off my clothes and get a shower, but the buttons are so confusing – who could find a use for so many options? Finally I manage to find a setting that gets me clean, and I find the least luxurious set of trousers and a pale blue shirt. I do not want anything to do with the capitol. But that's a problem. After the games, the victor never really leaves the capitol's hands. Like a cat playing with a mouse, you think you've won and can get free, but then it drags you back in again. I remember Finnick Odair who won the games at 14 and was loved by everybody, so after a couple of years he was tossed all over the capitol like a ragdoll. You've got no choice when it's you against President Snow, especially with your family at risk.

Diamondus comes in and tells me its diner; it is obvious she dislikes my choice in clothes. Reluctantly, I stroll in to see Alex and Diamondus sitting at a table with our mentor, Julius. He won the 77th games, and it isn't difficult to see why. He's 22 now, and so was at the best age for the games when he won. Still, he has muscles that can be seen through his tight shirt. His games were in a desert, so there was nowhere for the weak tributes to hide and only a few cactus plants. It was one of the shortest games in history, partly to do with the fact that there was no food or water at the cornucopia and parachutes could only carry medicine and weapons. An almost record number of 16 tributes were killed at the bloodbath, leaving only the careers, Julius and a district 8 girl who had incredible stamina. Two days later she was killed by a mutation that looked like a huge eagle with venomous, razor sharp teeth. Julius kept running from the cornucopia, with just a sleeping bag, a rope, a knife and a packet of matches to use. Eventually, he stopped, and it looked like he was about to go crazy, when another mutt attacked him. It looked like he was going to die, but somehow he managed to get his knife out fast enough to kill the mutt, which had ripped off his arm with its talons'. He ate the meat and drank its blood. Then he broke off the venomous teeth and put them in his pack, and used its skin as a bandage. Three of the careers died of dehydration, another from madness, leaving the boy from district 1 and the girl from 2. The girl slit the boy's throat in his sleep, and it was the final two. They both fell asleep, but were woken up by an enormous tidal wave that came from all edges of the arena. Julius had the idea to tie himself to a near-bye cactus. The girl from 2 was not so lucky, and was sleeping inside the cornucopia. The waves slammed on it from all sides, and she was drowned/ smashed to pieces at the same time. I remember that games well, as I was 14 and a girl from my maths class at school was reaped.

I sit down and it's obvious that Alex is intimidated by my size. He's 15, but hasn't had much of a growth-spurt yet, so is at least a foot shorter than me.

"So, you got any tips about strategy?" I ask straight away, before Julius can speak.

He smiles, "Well, that depends. Do you have any talents?"

"I'm strong and can learn fast. I run quite quickly as well, but I don't know about survival. Or weapons to be honest." I say, before Alex can talk.

"I think I'm quite clever." Says Alex. I know he's lying, but I'm not going to say. He cares more about his looks and popularity than his grades at school, and the general population won't be friends with a geek. That's one of my advantages – I don't care what anyone thinks about me.

"Also, I'm quite fast and I bet I could blag my way into the careers." He smirks.

Julius shakes his head, to Alex's surprise. "You won't be able to get into the careers unless you've got a real talent, and even then they'll stab you in the back once you've been used. The careers aren't all they're cracked up to be." He states as he turns to me. "You at least look like you might have a chance, if you use your brains. But you seem like someone who doesn't like company, and for the pre-games it is essential that you get sponsors."

"You won without sponsors." I argue.

"Yeah, but I'd be better off if I had had them." He sighs, lifting his sleeve to show a fake arm. I gasp, no-one had ever told me about that before. At that moment a man in a smart suit comes in pushing a trolley filled with dishes. A girl dressed similarly loads them onto the table, and Julius laughs at Alex and my shocked faces. There is so much food! This would be enough to last a family of 7 at home for a week. The sad thing is, I know plenty of family's that size who won't even get this much food in the next fortnight. I dig in, trying to eat the least filling, protein filled food. I could go very hungry in the arena, whatever it is, so it's best to put on some weight before-hand. Alex comes from one of the richest families in the district, so he doesn't know hunger and is stupid enough to go for filling carbohydrates like rice and pasta. Even I, who hasn't ever really gone hungry, know that I need to put on some weight.

"So, are you excited about the capitol?" Diamondus asks us, in her stupid capitol voice.

"I guess." I murmur, shrugging.

"Oh I'm sure you'll love it!" she trills; "It's so beautiful; it makes your district look like a slum or something" she laughs. Julius, Alex and I don't.

"Anyway," she doesn't seem to see that we are offended "as soon as you get to the capitol, your prep team will make you look beautiful. It's amazing how much they can make your looks, _improve_." She looks at me with purpose. I pick up a chicken drumstick and purposely eat it as savagely as I can. She cringes and continues.

"Then you get to see your chariot outfits, which I'm sure will be _fabulous!_" she grins. "Then you have three days of training, and on the third you'll get your individual time with the gamemakers to show them what you can do. You'll get your score, and the next day you'll have your interview with Casear!" she says excitedly.

"And the next day we get slaughtered!" Alex says sarcastically. We all stare at him, surprised in his change of attitude. Diamondus looks hurt and even though Alex was speaking my thoughts, I feel angry with him for upsetting her.

"Well no, you'll enter the games and have just the same chance as everybody else." Diamondus tries to give 23 children dying a positive spin. Of course, I know that there is no way that Alex is coming home. I don't know about myself. Any day before today I didn't really want to give in to the capitol and kill. To live with those memories would surely be worse than death. But after my mother's talk in the Justice Building, and Codend's kiss (I get butterflies just thinking about it), I really don't know. Would it be worth it? Of course, even if I want to win there's still only a slim sliver of a chance that I will.

I excuse myself and leave the table to go to my room. I turn on the T.V to watch the reaping's of the other tributes, to see the faces of everyone that will have to die if I want to see district 3 again.

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**I hope you enjoyed this, so please read and review! Do you want a list of all the other tributes, or just from Volta's point of view, so you only read the few she remembers? Please review with what you want! Thank you again for reading, Bye!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Journey

**Thank you for reading this, and please review. It takes just a couple of seconds! Thanks :)**

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I make myself comfortable as the reapings begin. I never really paid much attention to them at home, but I need to see my competitors, and how I looked as well. First is the district 1 female, and before their escort has even read a name, 10 or so girls sprint towards the stage. One girl gets to the steps, but is stabbed in the back by another, who is shot by a peacekeeper. Even though it's not surprising that, in the career districts, everyone wants to win, I am still shocked at the lengths people will go to to fight to the death. Eventually a 16 year old walks onto the stage, who gives her name as Suzy Day. The boy's name is read out as "Robert Smith!", and this time no-one volunteers. A second later I see why.

He emerges from the 17 year olds section, and is just _huge!_ He must be nearly 7 foot tall, and I'm puzzled as to why his gigantic muscles don't rip his shirt in two. He tries to look determined and strong, but I can see he is trying to hide a smirk. I'm not surprised, he must be one of the strongest contenders this games if no-one dares volunteer. He walks gracefully up to the stage, and shakes Suzy's hand.

Next it shows district 2, where the tributes are 17 and 18 year old volunteers. The girl looks sly and cunning, while the boy is slightly possessed looking.

I prepare myself for district 3. Diamondus calls Alex's name out, and he looks just like I remember; smug. His father holds his mother tightly, who is weeping quietly but trying to look brave. No-one volunteers. Then Diamondus calls my name out, and no-one moves for a second, before I emerge. My expression is vacant at first, but then it turns into a confident smirk. It zooms to Welda and my family, who all look shocked and my mother is crying already. I am pleased with how I look, and hope that the careers don't see as a normal, weak district 3 tribute.

The other reapings fly by, now that my worries about how I looked are over. Both the district 4's are 15. There are no more volunteers until district 9. A 12 year old girl called Whittney Cook is reaped. A boy who looks very young tries to volunteer, and doesn't understand why the peacekeepers stop him. When the male tribute is called, he is released and skips up to the stage. The girl looks sad, as if she knows that he will die and doesn't understand the games. When he is asked his name, he replies with Cornelius Box in an immature lisp. I think that he probably has a disease like Sam Stuart who lives down our road. He is 18, yet he was born with a condition that means his intelligence hasn't changed since he was about 7. They are asked to shake hands, but Cornelius just plants a kiss on Whittney's cheek, who blushes and looks unhappy about it.

All the rest of the tributes are non-volunteers who are below 15, exept the district 10 female, who is 18. The screen flashes to Casear Flickerman and Head Gamemaker Senaca Crane.

"Well, what an interesting bunch of tributes we have this year!" Casear exclaims.

"I know." Replies Senaca, nodding.

"Who do you think are the ones to watch?"

"Well… the careers all look interesting of course, especially district 1."

"Any non-careers?"

"Maybe the girl from 11, she looked very determined, along with the boy from 8. Also, both of district 3's tributes looked… _different_ to your typical district 3 tribute."

"Well there you have it! Now let's talk about the games, are there any hints that you can share? Any surprises?"

Seneca Crane chuckles "Well, I can't tell you a lot, but the tributes better prepare for the unexpected in the arena. And of course it's the hunger games, so it's always going to be great!"

"Prepare for the unexpected! And on that help full hint I say to any tributes watching, good luck, and goodnight!"

I flick of the screen and lie down on the bed. At least the capitol knows who I am. That has to be good for getting me sponsors. I sleep above the blankets, in my clothes. My dreams are filled with the faces of the other tributes. They are all knocking on my door in district 3, trying to get in to my family, Codend and I, who are hiding inside. I keep telling him to go upstairs and hide, but my voice is gone and he walks in a trance to the door. I scream silently as he twists the handle, and suddenly they burst in. The girl from district 1 stabs Codend, and Welda is ripped in two by the district 1 boy. Jack and my mother try to run, but are caught by the rest of the careers, along with the older tributes from the smaller districts. As I cry, no-one notices me, until finally the juvenile boy from district 9 looks at me, and runs towards me. At first I think that he is going to kiss me like he did to Whittney on stage, but instead he bites me. Then Whittney and everyone else joins him, and I am unable to move away from the torture.

"You really thought you could win, 3?" smirks the district 2 female, ripping my fingers off with her mouth. The pain is unbareable, but I never die, and my body parts just grow back again and again.

I wake up drenched in sweat, my hand in my mouth. I can taste blood, but at least I'm not screaming. Its 6:45, so I get a shower and put on clothes similar to the ones I wore yesterday. My hand doesn't stop bleeding once I am dressed, so a wrip material off a t-shirt and use it as a bandage.

I get to the food carriage and only Julius is there.

"What happened to your hand?" he asks immediately, sounding alarmed.

"Good morning to you too! It's just a cut, nothing serious…" I trail off as he grabs my wrist to examine it.

"Can someone sort this out?" he asks one of the suited people from yesterday, who I didn't even notice. The girl nods, leaves, and comes back quickly with a first aid kit. She puts a cream onto my hand which makes it stop bleeding instantly, and a new layer of skin forms so quickly that I can nearly see it grow. I'm puzzled, but then I realize that that was probably capitol medicine, which is known for being an incredible life-saver in the arena. The arena. I'd almost forgotten.

I sit down and eat some breakfast, forcing myself to put on weight even though I am still full from the feast last night. Diamondus walks in wearing a suit covered in bright pink leaves. Me and Julius try to stifle our laughter.

"Well, today's the day you get to see the capitol and let me tell you I am certain that you are going to just _love_ it!" she shrieks, "Where's Alex?"

Julius and I shrug our shoulders, and Diamondus tuts, strolling out of the carriage.

"So, got any tips for the chariot ride?" I ask.

"Be noticed. Make the capitol love ou by pretending to love them." He explains, whilst I grimace in disgust. "Look, pull faces all you want, but if you want to go home listen to my advice."

I know that Julius is right, but I so want to make the capitol look stupid and not participate.

"Think about Codend." I tell myself, and I wish that I hadn't because that makes me homesick.

The rest of the day is pretty slow, until the train decelerates and I realise that we are at the capitol. I wave from the window as Julius advised, and they wave back. I try to force a smile, and call Alex over to join me. Then we are led off the train and into a huge building which I can only guess is the training centre. While I' out-side, I try to breathe in fresh air, but it's polluted with fumes that choke me. The capitol looks beautiful, and as I walk into the building I make a promise to myself.

_I will see this all again. I will go on the train again. I am Volta Nudorn, future victor of the 81__st__ hunger games._


	6. Chapter 6 - Stylist

I shut my eyelids tight and swear under my breath – there was no way I was going to look weak and cry in front of my prep team.

"Last one, I promise!" squeaks Souris. At first I had thought that something had gone wrong with her voice box, but apparently her name means "mouse" in some old language. Her body was dyed grey, her button nose had whiskers and her voice had been altered. The others in my prep team were Pop (who was bright pink with electric blue hair and smelt like strawberry bubble-gum) and Triampertus (a short, fat man who was dyed a range of purples. His head was a pale lilac, his arms fuchsia and his legs gradually got darker to indigo).

"There, all done," sighs Triampertus. "How lucky you are to get free treatment!"

"And you have one of the best stylists of the games. Oh, how I wish I were you!" Pop sings.

_Belive me, if we could swap, I would_ I think to myself.

My prep team left and a man strolled in. The right side of his body was painted blue and his left side yellow. His face was a pale green, as if he was about to vomit.

"Hello," he mutters coldly, his bronze eyes scanning my body. "My name is Pytha and I'll be your stylist." His face relaxes.

I know exactly who he is. He's meant to come up with brilliant ideas for our district 3 costumes. He's not very good at his job.

"I think that you're just going to love this year outfit! Better than the rags you wear at home, eh?" he chuckles. I keep a poker face as his tape measure snakes around me. He leaves the room for a few minutes and returns with the outfit I will be wearing for my first appearance in the capitol. Carefully, he places it on me and makes my feet slip into high heeled shoes. Am I meant to be able to walk in these? Then I sit down on a stylish, leather seat and he does my hair and makeup. Finally, he stands me up and supports me as I stumble over to the mirror. I brace myself for the worst before peeking at my reflection. I see Pytha standing proudly, holding the hand of a tall woman with a perfect figure. Her face is smiling, her eyes are sparkling, she just looks magnificent. She wears a sleek, silver dress that falls to the floor. It is made up of tiny metal scales that shimmer in the light. Blue sparks fly from her intricate head piece. She looks so incredible that I keep having to remind myself that "She" is "Me".

"Do you like it?" Pytha grins. I am speechless, only managing a short nod. He smiles, "let's take you to the chariot then!"

I take off the shoes and follow Pytha. In the lift I see Alex, who is dressed similarly to me but in a suit.

"You look stunning." He gasps.

"You too."

We are led to a golden chariot with the number three engraved on the front. I slip into the painful shoes and stand next to Alex.

"Now, make sure that the crowd love you. Smile, wave and stand up straight." Instructs Pytha.

"Oh, and hold hands, the crowd will love it." Smiles another capitol woman, who I'm guessing is Alex's stylist.

Two giant, jewel incrusted doors sweep open and the first chariot starts to be led out by two white horses. I hold Alex's hand and we start to move out.


	7. Chapter 7 - Chariot

A deafening roar rises from the humungous crowd, which seems to go to on into the horizon, as the chariots roll into the streets of the capitol. I take Julius's advice and wave extravagantly with my left hand (my right is being strangled by a shaking Alex).

"Come on, _wave!_" I hiss at Alex.

"B, b, but I'll fall off," he trembles.

"Look, I've got you. This is your chance for sponsors, so wave or die!"

Abruptly Alex's hand copies mine. I put on a huge grin, so that after a few minutes my jaw and face are aching. In a moment of complete giddiness, I throw my right hand, still being clutched by Alex, high into the air. The repercussions of this are a wave of screams and a shower of roses. People call our names – no they _chant_ them. That is, until, they see the tributes behind us. Because district twelve's costumes are so mesmerizingly beautiful that the crowd are almost struck into a trance just by looking at them.

I remember a few years ago, one of the first games I can remember watching, where the tributes from district twelve were on fire. All the other tributes were annoyed at them, but at the time I couldn't understand why. But now I know. It is because even though my beautiful dress and dazzling headdress, my waving and holding hands with Alex, I will never be talked about as much as they are. This is because they have not just stolen the lime-light; they have stolen all the light. Literally. Because all of the light from the streetlamps, from the crowd and from my headdress, is all being sucked into their midnight black cloaks. This means that the only thing the crowd can see is the flickering candlelight of their headdresses, which seems to form the number 12.

The chants of "Alex" and "Volta" turn into "Mathew, Lily – DISTRICT 12!".

Over and over people scream it, and with every chant the bubbling pot of rage inside me comes close to boiling over. I can feel the lid of my temper slowly rising, moving, but never completely exploding.

"Volta?" Whispers Alex nervously.

"What!" I almost shriek at him.

"Could you loosen your grip a little?"

I look down to see my nails digging into his purple hand.

"Sorry," I mutter, releasing my grip and stretching my fist. We're almost at the city circle anyway.

When we finally arrive, President Snow silences he crowd as the light is restored from the district twelve's costumes.

"Welcome, welcome." She booms over a microphone. Since her father's death a couple of years ago, she has only hosted one game. Last year's game was one of the bloodiest, with the victor losing both his legs in the final mutt battle. There was a week after the games where he was fighting for his life, and the medics only just managed to keep him alive. I hate to think what the final battle this year will be like. _If I'm still alive by then_.

"Welcome, tributes, to the capitol! I hope you enjoy your stay in this amazing city. Happy 81st Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!"

Our chariots roll through to a plain room. I'm not the only one giving the district twelve tributes the evils. Maybe their costumes will have gotten them sponsors, but with this many enemies its unlikely they'll make it past the bloodbath.

"Darlings that was _amazing!_" chimes Diamondus.

Pytha glares at the pair from district twelve and their stylist "Yes, well done. I need to check something with Crane. I'm sure that there was some cheating going on."

I don't see the point as I'm sure that those kids will be dead in a few days, but I stay silent.

"Come on you two; let me show you where you'll get to live for the next few days." Diamondus sighs, leading us towards a lift.


	8. Chapter 8 - Training day 1

Like a fly trapped in a spider's web I am tangled into the sheets of my capitol bed, each move that I make trying to escape just multiplies the problem. I force myself to lie still and calm my rapid breathing, whilst my brain focuses on the task for the day.

Oh yeah, training for the hunger games. No biggie.

I want to scream at this disgusting world where I live, but it won't get me anywhere, so instead I get up and try to shower the sweat from my pale body. An array of confusing buttons are presented to me, and even though I am familiar with some of this technology (from training at the factory back home…_home_) it doesn't help me here. In the end I end up lobster pink and covered in huge green bubbles. I eventually just step out of the shower, leaving its multi-water jets streaming, and put on the outfit laid out on my bed. My training clothes.

Yet again, breakfast is a time for my force-feeding tactic, and I only stop when Julius saunters in and begins to talk.

"So, today is training. This is your first impression on not only the gamemakers but also all of the other tributes, so it is crucial you follow all of my advice." Alex peels apart a piece of bread and pops it into his mouth anticipatingly. "First off, only talk to the people you are going to make allies with. Anyone else will just be a distraction. You may want to wait until lunch to ask anyone, but make sure every person counts. Secondly, only learn from the trainers. The tributes last year thought that they could learn berry safety at lunch from the district 9's. Big mistake. Now, first question, are you two going to train together or individually?"

I choke on the hot chocolate I had been sipping, sending the brown liquid all over the table. Alex and I? In the arena together? I look at his face and though I don't want to break his mood, I have to tell him sometime. Better sooner than later.

"No." Alex says before I can.

"No." I repeat.

"So you're not going to make an alliance in the arena?" Julius asks, though I expect he knew this from the beginning.

"No. I'm going solo." I mutter, although it sounds like I'm bragging when I hear it.

"Ok. That will turn out great when you sleep right through being stabbed by the careers."

"Better the careers than someone I thought I could trust."

"Ok. What about you Alex?" Julius turns to face the boy.

"Depends on how good the others are," Alex inspects his nails, like it's no big deal.

"Well pick wisely. You don't-" Julius begins as Diamondus comes in and shrieks:

"Time for training!" in her stupid capitol accent.

"In a few weeks, 23 of you will be dead. One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days, particularly to what I'm about to say. First, no fighting with the other tributes, there are plenty of trainers to practice with. My advice is: don't ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword, but most of you will die from natural causes: 10% from infection, 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife." Atala, the head trainer, explains.

As soon as she is finished I look around at the different stations. The weapons are tempting and since I have no idea of how to use them, I'd like to learn. But the career tributes dominate these areas and I'm not looking weak in front of them. So in the end I head to the berries station. After about an hour I feel like I can't look at berries anymore, so I head to knot tying.

I'm just starting to get to grips with one of the basic snares when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey," smirks Alex, examining my snare as if he's an expert.

"What?" I snarl angrily.

"How you doing?" he makes it sound like he's a phyciatrist and I'm his patient.

"Fine until, you know, I was reaped for the hunger games and had to spend my last days on earth with you!"

"Sheesh, ok. Tell me when you figure out that you need to do a double half-hitch rather than a figure of eight. Oh, and check out the pair from district 9." He chuckles. I stare down at my snare. Damn, he was right. How on earth did someone like him know that? I complete the snare and turn around to leave the station, when I see him. The district 9 boy, the one who kissed his district partner. Being 12, she's very unlikely to survive the first day, but still she tries to use a curved sword and isn't too bad. But then I realise – district 9, grain. She probably uses that every day in the fields. It seems like she is fighting one of the trainers just like she's meant too. But the boy, who doesn't seem to understand that it isn't a real fight, that we are not yet in the arena, jumps on her opponent. Tearing and clawing at his skin, his face, his eyes, he keeps shouting "Don't touch her!" which finally makes the gamemakers look at us. A few more trainers run forward to pull him back, and, kicking and screaming, he is taken out of the training hall. The trainer who he fought is rushed to get some medical care. Then the silence in the room gradually disappears as people get on with what they were doing, except for the girl from district 9, who stands awkwardly with the sword in her hand, not sure what to do.

The lunch gong sounds and we are marched into a dining room. I quickly fill my plate with as much food as I can and pick a table with only one chair – I don't want Alex's company now.

Everyone sits alone or with their district partner, apart from the careers who sit chatting and laughing at the biggest table. I hurriedly eat my food, trying to stuff as much in as I can before I feel full. The boy from district 9 still doesn't show up when we are led back in.

First, we are told, we all must complete one of the compulsory tests. Unfortunately, this one is a climbing exercise, which I know I can't do. Luckily, most of the careers are too heavy to be able to do it, so the only tributes from district 7 and 11 can do it easily.

After that, we are free to go on to any station of our choice. I try out camouflage but am so rubbish that it seems like a waste of time. Eventually, I pluck up the courage to go to the archery station.

"Hello," welcomes the instructor. He shows me how to string the bow and aim. After about an hour I am able to at least hit the target. Then I walk over to the knife throwing station. I'm not too bad, but also not too good. I manage to lodge the knife into the target about half the time. Through the corner of my eye I see the careers sniggering at me. That time was the only time I hit the bulls eye.

After training we go back to our living quarters to have dinner.

"So, how was training?" Julius asks us as the avoxes lay out our meal.

"Ok," I murmured, glancing over the plates of food in front of me.

"Yeah, it was good." Alex replies.

""What did you learn?" asks Julius, digging into his stew.

"I did fire lighting, sword fighting, camouflage and berries." Says Alex as he dunks a roast potato onto his plate, splattering gravy on his shirt. Diamondus looks very disapproving.

"I did berries; knot tying, archery, knife throwing and camouflage." I reply.

"Ok, that's good. Did either of you find any skill that you were good at, that you could show the gamemakers?" Julius questions.

"Snares." says Alex.

"Nothing," I reply, "well, I was Ok at archery, but nothing compared to the careers."

"Right, well tomorrow try to find something that you can show the gamemakers. You want a good training score if you want to get sponsors."

We ate the rest of our dinner in silence, with Diamondus trying to make conversation. After dinner, when my stomach was fit to burst, I went to bed, still fully dressed, waiting for the nightmares.


End file.
